Arron Liken's Arc

Chapter 6 of 11

Arron held the marked blade to Victor's throat, but his own shoulder still bled. He needed the wound bound. He needed to check on Lilly at the temple doors. He glanced back for one moment, and that moment cost him. An arrow hissed from the tree line. It struck the stone beside Victor's head. Not aimed at Arron. Aimed to make him flinch. He did. Victor twisted free, rolled down the steps, and ran into the pines. Arron let him go. A new hunter walked out of the trees instead. She was small and quick, a bow already drawn. A braid swung over her shoulder. She stepped between Arron and the temple as if she had planned each footfall. Arron had never seen her, but he knew her kind now. Another blade for hire in this valley. Victor had warned there were others. "Morgan Blackwood," she said, nodding at herself. "Drop the sword, and I only take the girl." Arron's chest went cold. She was not here for him. She was here for Lilly. He shifted his grip on the saber. "You touch her, you die here." "Big words for a bleeding man." Morgan loosed the arrow. Arron dove sideways. The shaft grazed his ribs and skittered across the flowers. He rolled up and charged. Morgan drew again, fast, and put a second arrow in his thigh. Pain buckled his leg. He fell into the flowerbed, the saber flat in his fist. Morgan stepped past him toward the temple. "Stay down. It's easier for both of us." Lilly did not stay behind the doors. She came out low along the steps. Morgan turned at the sound, but she was half a breath too slow. Lilly caught the bow with both hands and wrenched it wide. The next arrow flew into the sky. Arron ripped the arrow from his thigh and drove himself up. He shifted mid-lunge. Fur, then teeth. His jaws closed on Morgan's forearm and dragged her off Lilly. She screamed and dropped the bow. Arrows spilled across the stone. One rolled apart, its head bound in green fern, and Arron smelled a strange sleepy sweetness leak from the broken shaft. He pinned Morgan with his full weight. She stopped fighting. "Fine," she gasped. "Fine. You win this one." Arron shifted back and pressed the marked blade to her neck, as he had done to Victor. But Morgan grinned through the blood. "Victor ran to warn the rest," she said. "You didn't kill him. Now they all know a werewolf holds the temple." Arron looked at Lilly. She stood over the spilled arrows, breathing hard, safe. He had kept her safe. That was won. But the cost was clear. He had a captive and a stolen bow. He had lost Victor into the pines. And every hunter in the valley now knew exactly where to find his mate.